"Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death."
~ Anais Nin

Two Reasons You Shouldn't Ask Men for Hair Advice

1. "But then the drapes won't match the rug."
2. "Honestly, I think green would look good."

Last night at jewelry class, I sawed. And sawed. And sawed some more. Below is my template and 2 shots, front and back, of the progress I made last night. I hope to have almost all the remaining parts cut out for next week.

Vulcan: 45 mph
Road: wet
Light: yellow
Me: foolish
Back Tire: eerrrrRRRRRRRRR!!!!!
Vulcan: fishtail
Me: emergency recovery
Vehicular onlookers: stunned
Heart: BaDumBaDumBaDumBaDumBaDum
Adreneline: whooooooosh

notes: I forced myself to laugh after successfully stopping, if only to relax myself a bit. Traffic waiting for their green actually waited to see what I was going to do (stop, crash, run the light) before proceeding. I was actually wearing my helmet!

Incase you were not aware: One 5lb bag of senior dog food PLUS your latest novel, jPod, in hard cover PLUS 3 paperbacks (Kafka on the Shore by Murakami; Under the Black Flag, novel about pirates; The Da Vinci Code, which I still haven't read and only picked up because it was buy 2 get 1 free) PLUS all my rain gear equals danger. To be exact, a serious adjustment in the center of my usual 2 wheelin' gravity that almost resulted in some Brazil-type-loser being run over while I was attempting to turn right onto Westheimer.

jPod, by the way, is amazing. By page 39, I was in love. At page 43, I realized that I'd accidentally eaten half a piece of wax paper that was inadvertently left attached to the Swiss cheese in my sandwich. At this point I can safely say that my plans to clean the house, do laundry and get more smokes have been thwarted. I will not likely leave my sofa to eat, shit, drink or answer the phone until I've rabidly read through every last page.

It is my thinking that anyone who has not yet learned to adore each and every word you've written should be chopped up, thrown into a meat grinder and fed to all the losers who still haven't heard of Cory Doctorow.

as ever,
Dusty

Ten years ago almost seems like a fantasy now; the punk rock past that I made up in my head. Hearing Rich laugh in amazement over who I have become served as a bold reminder. It was the real deal. I really was that 90 pound, no future punker. Wasting my life, staring out the factory window, wondering how many more days it would be before I kicked that stupid bum out of the alley and took his place. What a difference a little difference can make. I remind myself on a daily basis that things are so much better now. I've come a long way, baby.

I'd like to dedicate today to the 90s. Today I will honor the dirty punkrock that lives on inside me. Regardless of who or where I am now, that good-for-nothing shit is very much a part of who I am today.

On the menu:
The Nobodys, The Queers, No Use for a Name, Dropkick Murphys, Selector, Screeching Weasel, Leatherface, Crass, Nomeansno, The Vandals, Pigface, etc etc.

Sad Little Girl ~ Screeching Weasel
your smiley face is out of order today
everything's wrong and you can't shut it off
sad little girl
just stop resisting
you'll never change anything
start sharpening your claws
don't try to live the way that you want
cause it's a lost cause
sad little girl
the time goes by so slow
there's nothing to do except claw at yourself
just try to find a way to make it through fifty more years
without screaming all the way
the one solution is to stop thinking at all
rip out your brain now and sew up your mouth
'cause things never work out for you
and they never will
sad little girl
little girl, little girl
sad little girl

Note to self and others: I'm not always miserable!

Repeat after me: I will not spill my guts to the interweb.

Instead, I'll let MTX do it for me in a much more ambiguous fashion.

"I'll sit through your replies, but I've seen the answers in your eyes. I've still got room for more lies, but now you're walking away. We had a lovely day. You had to cast a spell on it. I had to try not to dwell on it with nothing to say. I'm already far away, trying to forget another yesterday. Don't snatch your hand away. I promise not to bite you or kiss you just to spite you-- you'll get your way. And I'm only on the way to trying to forget another yesterday. And we've got a ways to go. What I said to you won't get to you, but if we had a place to go I'd still want to be there too. And I'm always on the way to trying to forget another yesterday."

And furthermore...
"After all is said and done there's not much to say or to do, except for keep on keeping on and start again anew. At least the future's in my hands and life is a thing to live for, cause now I have another chance to screw it up once more."

Thank you, Dr Frank, for pre-saying all these things for me.

Dear Week,

You have been no less than a million days long. I can not help but hate every minute of you. I'm so glad we're over. Please X yourself off my calendar and never come back.

I can only hope that next week will love me and I can forget about the misery that was you.

yours,
Dusty

The good.
Today I received a surprise phone call from a far away friend. It was great to hear his voice and the ironic joy he gets from having serious conversations about things. Neither of us would ever have imagined such a moment when we first met, all those lifetimes ago. Also, from this conversation came a brief moment of enlightenment.

I may not be all that, but I am something. From that comes the promise that one day I can become something more. More than my career. More than my salary. More than a steaming pile of craziness. More than I ever imagined. In fact, I have already become so much more than I have been.

The bad.
I feel like I am under the gun on so many levels. At work. In my personal relationships. In my own head.

The ugly.
Smoking. Sucks.

I love my friends. Mostly because they say things like this:

Jeff: I see your dog learned how to myspace. I was very happy to become her friend.

ValSmith: Yeah, i'm not your type, i'm probably one of the most non-crazy guys ever.

Steevo: There's really not much else you can do beyond that... besides have revenge threesomes.

Krystl: If by "show" you mean "trick."

And 1st prize goes to my ValSmith...
* RenegadeVal sends some ravens out

I'm totally pissed off at myself for smoking again after making it through the first 6 weeks (not to mention the 6 years before that). My complete lack of willpower over the past few weeks is absolutely shamefull.

I hate the fact that every little small thing is pushing me to the verge of tears today. What's worse is wondering,"Are these really small things I've blown out of proportion or big things I'm trying to downplay?" Suck.

I'd kill for a smoke. I may yet.

Dear People Who's Lives Always Seem to Go Down Without a Hitch,

I hate you.

Love,
Dusty

Jewelry Class $310
Class Supplies $200
Tool Bag $30
(I heart my) Dremel $70
Beads and findings ordered online $100
Other misc related purchases $50

I'm starting to wonder if my new hobby is just spending money!